"This distinguished poet/essayist. . .describes poignantly the long, anxious days. . . .A lyrical, candid, sensitive spirit pervades this chronicle, which ends with Sarton well again, rejoicing in the present and putting the past behind her." ― Publishers Weekly The author chronicles her efforts to regain her health after having suffered a stroke at the age of seventy-three, describes her self-proclaimed life of solitude, and offers keen observations on the natural world surrounding her.
May Sarton was born on May 3, 1912, in Wondelgem, Belgium, and grew up in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Her first volume of poetry, Encounters in April, was published in 1937 and her first novel, The Single Hound, in 1938. An accomplished memoirist, Sarton boldly came out as a lesbian in her 1965 book Mrs. Stevens Hears the Mermaids Singing. Her later memoir, Journal of a Solitude, was an account of her experiences as a female artist. Sarton died in York, Maine, on July 16, 1995.
I began my adoration of May Sarton in 1983 when I stumbled upon "Journal of a Solitude," EXACTLY at the right time in my life. The depth of her introspection and the brutal honesty of her self reflection somehow sets the stage for much needed quietness in my own life. Everytime I read May Sarton, whether poetry, fiction or journal, I come away feeling settled, calm and somehow recalibrated to my true north.
This journal marks the beginning of the end: the first part of largely taken up with Sarton health issues, including several hospitalizations for her stroke and subsequent cardiac irregularities. Those concerns are resolved (pretty much), so that the later entries are postive in outlook, if not downright cheerful. Readers who are tempted to bag all her grousing are advised to stick with it.
This is the fourth journal I've read and it was interesting. Sarton is rather stuck on herself but as she lives alone, perhaps it is to be expected? "The Journal of a Solitude" remains my favourite.
"A lyrical, candid, sensitive spirit pervades this chronicle, which ends with Sarton well again, rejoicing in the present and putting the past behind her."--Publishers Weekly. Although I have not read any of Sarton's fiction, and this must change, soon!, I love reading her journals. This one, written while she was recovering from a stroke, shows the strength of spirit she had, and how she recovered.
This is an excellent book for the pandemic year of 2020. It describes poet, novelist, and journal-writer (not journalist!) May Sarton's life in isolation and sickness, and then in recovery, after she suffered a stroke and atrial fibrillation in 1986. It captures for me the feeling of this unusual year in a way nothing else I've read this year has, despite being about a totally different set of events. I do admit that some of that is because of the difficult yet privileged situation I've been in personally, where I've been in isolation and anxiety, rather than terror, personal grief, or severe economic hardship that have struck others. For those experiences it would be too mild.
There are some flaws, chiefly that it doesn't really stand on its own. To enjoy it fully, one really has to know some of the background, for which having read both Plant Dreaming Deep and The House by the Sea was useful, but probably having read one or the other would be sufficient. Another is that its treatment of politics is somewhat simplistic. This isn't just that I disagree with Sarton politically, she admits in the text that the journal hasn't treated politics deeply. There are still some perspectives that I appreciate, however. Similarly with religion, Sarton's engagement with Catholics of her time is interesting, as it was in some of her other journals. However, it's very much a personal engagement drawing intensively on her own religious background (Unitarian, but not church-attending) and doesn't always engage in depth with what she's encountered in the way her reflections on ordinary life, friendship, pets, writing, literature, and work do.
Reading May Sarton again and again is like returning to a dear old friend. This journal, which focuses on a time of her having a mild stroke followed by some increasing illness and disability, is a remarkable testament to honesty, candour, and the contemplative life even in the midst of suffering. Sarton is spiritual, affiliated with the Unitarian Universalist Church, but is mostly a solitary who does not seek consolation from orthodox faith. Where she finds it is in the daily walk of gardening, caring for her animals (she has a new kitten at this point as well as having to say goodbye to a couple of old friends), and corresponding with her readers. There is a lot to admire--and learn--from Sarton and her world and works!
Did not live up to expectations. Of course it’s a journal not a novel. It is her perspective of her day-to-day routine following a mild stroke that left her with less energy to tackle self-imposed tasks.
Depression led to anxiety, annoyance, and a sense of isolation from people (despite the fact that friends and colleagues visited her and frequently took her out for lunch or dinner almost daily.
An avid gardening enthusiast, she peppers her notes with lists of flowers, plants, and gardening needs and activities.
Sloughing through book took forever—a self-imposed task.
I do not like journalling myself but I enjoy reading other people's journals, and I came across May Sarton's by accident. I read a little every evening and it brings me peace, thoughtfulness and how I can enjoy life more than I do now. Thank you May for your journals and your novels of which I am also a fan. May you rest in peace
I like May Sarton. I find her journals to be comforting reading in the evening before I go to sleep. It is an insight for me into a type of life I find interesting. I find that she dances up to the edge of self exploration and then I don't know. I think she eases away again, but she may have plunged through and just not shared. I find that less likely, but I find the saddest parts are when she is confronted with her life and it overwhelms her. I hope to be better able to view my life as I age. That is a challenge, but one I'd like to think Buddhism helps us work with.